The Time I Didn’t Want To Be Like Jesus

Norah may be a bit challenging, but you gotta give the girl credit for her compassion. She has a very big heart when it comes to others’ pain and suffering. Combine that with some sweet card-making skills, and you have the  Florence Nightingale of Hallmark.

So earlier in the week when I had a two-day migraine, I was on the receiving end of Norah’s card talent. I knew she was up to something when I could hear her in the other room using Mr. H as a spell check for a few words. A couple minutes later, she ran out to the kitchen, and with a very loving expression on her little face, she presented me with this card. I read the outside…

Norah Get Well Card

and the inside…

Get Well Card Inside

…and thanked her very much for her sweet words. Then I glanced at the picture and my heart sunk. Children are very honest. Sometimes painfully so. I thought this might be one of those moments. My first thought was that the person drawn on the card was me. And I got to thinking that maybe I had failed to keep up on a personal care area in my life. Was there a shadow going on on my upper lip? Had she noticed? Evidently so. So I very timidly asked,

Is that me?

No, Mommy! That’s Jesus!   (said in a very disgusted tone)

Sigh of relief.

Oh, yeah, that is Jesus, isn’t it. Good job, honey!

I cannot tell you how relieved I was when it was confirmed that my daughter did not view me as a mustached mom. I am a little confused though about that mustache on Jesus. I don’t know where she’s seen this mustached Jesus. I was mentally flipping through her Sunday School papers that she’s brought home, and I couldn’t remember a coloring picture depicting Him with just a ‘stache. Either a whole beard or nothing. So it must have been her own artist license. I guess I just wasn’t aware of my 5-year-old’s knowledge of the current mustache rage.

In retrospect, besides the mustache, the clothing should have been a dead giveaway. I don’t usually go around the house in a white tunic and blue sash. Clearly Jesus clothing. And, of course, the flash of glory. I definitely don’t roll surrounded by bright light. I don’t know how I missed that. When I look at it now, all I can see is Jesus. I think it was just the first impression of the combined dress and mustache that threw me.

I had never thought about this before, but I’m pretty certain now…

I want to be like Jesus, just without the facial hair.


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